Meeting

|Gary|

All Paladins settled into their designated seats, their progress thus far pleasing to observe. With the exception of Tessia, who required further development, each member had reached a level of competence that enabled them to engage and triumph over Scythes of varying strengths—a promising indication of their abilities.

I proceeded to provide a comprehensive overview of the current situation, including updates on the main conflict and the strategic maneuvers we had undertaken.

"At present, the focal point of the battle lies at the Wall—an imposing fortress spanning the expanse of the Grand Mountains. Under the vigilant guard of Lances Varay and Aya, not a single mutant or Alacryan soldier has managed to breach the confines of the Beast Glades," I stated, while Virion audibly released a deep breath, his tension palpable.

"However, we must remain vigilant, for it is evident that the enemy is employing delay tactics," I continued, my voice firm. "Their motives could encompass further clandestine infiltrations or awaiting the arrival of their armada to descend upon our continent."

Turning my attention to Arthur, I offered a reminder, "Arthur, although you bear some responsibility for our current predicament, do not burden yourself solely with blame." I motioned for Virion to distribute the prepared images.

"These images," Aldir interjected, addressing Arthur, "reveal the origin of the steam engine—an invention that the artificer Gideon took pride in. They disclose that the Alacryans acquired the technology from your own designs."

Virion's tone turned somber as he added, "It becomes apparent that the ship built by the Alacryans was a manifestation of your designs, Arthur."

"Nonetheless," I continued, my tone firm, "we cannot overlook the significant impact of the steam engine as an ingenious invention. Gideon skillfully harnessed its potential, employing it to create various innovations such as trains and even applying it to bolster our war efforts with cannons. It is this technological prowess that has fortified the Wall, enabling it to repel Alacaryan assaults with relative ease thus far."

A somber atmosphere settled over the room as the gravity of Arthur's invention and its unintended consequences sank in.

"Now, let us turn to our second agenda," I proceeded, shifting the focus of the discussion. "Each Paladin will be entrusted with a division to lead—an assignment that encompasses both overpowering formidable adversaries and overseeing the command of mages."

A collective nod of understanding swept through the room as I elaborated on the implementation and responsibilities associated with this new undertaking.

Concluding the main topics, it was time to address the final agenda.

"We are required to attend a meeting with the Alacaryans," I announced, my tone resolute. "As the Commander of Dicathen, it is imperative that I remain here. Therefore, Lancelot and Alistair will accompany Elder Virion and Aldir to represent our interests in this crucial gathering."

|Alistair|

We found ourselves standing in a small clearing atop a rise overlooking the coastal town of Slore. The occasional damp breeze carried the briny scent of the sea, adding an uncomfortable stickiness to the already chilling air.

"The meticulous planning on Vritra's side is disconcerting," I voiced, my tone heavy with weariness. "From breeding asura half-bloods to manipulating our continent's mana beasts to create mutants, and now these ships—it's clear that Agrona has been orchestrating this war with calculated precision. And yet, I can't help but feel that for him, it's more of a twisted game than a genuine ideological pursuit."

"If Agrona were so easily predictable, he wouldn't have reached this point," Aldir reluctantly admitted. "Being bound by the prohibition against direct participation in this conflict, he has devised cunning strategies to maneuver his pieces from behind the scenes, exerting his influence on behalf of his faction."

"Is this our meeting location?" Lancelot inquired, scanning the surroundings.

"By no means," Virion responded with a weary sigh, his long white hair tied back.

"This is as far as I can transport us before we embark on the final leg of our journey," Aldir clarified. "Our destination lies in the heart of the open ocean."

"Lead the way," I motioned, signaling my readiness.

Aldir's feet gradually lifted from the ground, enveloped in a shimmering milky aura. Soon, the aura extended to encompass Virion, raising him into the air as well. Virion's lips pressed tightly together, his body tensing with the precision of a cat held by the scruff of its neck.

Ascending from the steep precipice, I marveled at the panoramic view of the bustling town sprawled directly beneath me. With a deliberate command from my white core, I defied gravity and harnessed the power of mana to suspend myself in mid-air.

Maintaining a strategic distance behind Aldir, Lancelot and I glided atop the billowing clouds. Here, high above the world, only the faint whistling of wind accompanied our journey, lending an eerie tranquility to our purpose.

Aldir and Virion awaited our arrival, hovering gracefully above the ethereal veils of mist.

"While I trust your discretion, it is prudent to remind you to conceal your true strength during this meeting," Aldir's voice resonated uncomfortably close, whispering directly into my ear.

Descending beneath the veil of clouds, we plunged through the damp atmosphere, our garments becoming saturated with moisture, until the shimmering expanse of the ocean stretched out before us, its gentle undulations captivating the eye.

A pitch-black platform, roughly the size of a small house, floated ominously atop the ocean waves.

As we descended, hovering a mere few dozen meters above Virion and Aldir, the figures on the distant platform gradually became discernible. Two diminutive forms merged seamlessly with their shadowy perch.

A prickle ran across my skin, a sensation that piqued my curiosity. Intriguingly, I sensed the presence of two individuals, one of whom bore a striking familiarity from our encounters before.

As my gaze fell upon his features, an unsettling wave of apprehension washed over me. A mane of silver-grey hair framed his face, while his piercing amethyst eyes bore an uncanny resemblance to Gary. Horns, imposing and menacing, protruded from his head, adding to his formidable presence. An aura of sheer terror seemed to radiate from his very being, threatening to consume all in its path.

It was him—the one who had shattered my arms during the devastating assault on Xyrus City years ago.

He had ascended to the rank of an average Claxter, surpassing my own capabilities by a significant margin. The realization sent a chill down my spine, a reminder of the overwhelming power he possessed, dwarfing my own meager strength.

"They have arrived," Lancelot's voice echoed, a tinge of uncertainty present in his words. "But these are not ordinary messengers, I can sense that much."

Stepping onto the platform with silent determination, our footsteps resonated with purpose as we advanced towards the center. My jaw clenched involuntarily as my gaze fixated on the two figures before us, a mix of anticipation and rage surging within me.

The first Vritra, standing beside Jezebeth, exuded an air of undeniable power. While his presence was intimidating, it paled in comparison to the one who stood beside him—a figure of immense strength and influence, yet not a cause for immediate concern.

However, none of that mattered.

His strength was inconsequential. What mattered was who he was.

I locked eyes with the other Vritra, a whirlwind of emotions churning within me as his amused expression met my gaze, his words hanging in the air.

"You have grown."

A bead of sweat trickled down my spine, my eyes refusing to waver from the intense crimson glare emanating from the Scythe before me.

From the twisted horns that curled beneath his ears to the ominous, blood-stained cape that mirrored the fiery hue of his eyes, there was no mistaking his identity.

It was him.

The very same Vritra who had mercilessly taken my mother's life.

"You dare to show yourself!" I bellowed, my eyes undergoing a transformation. The serene blue hues gave way to a fiery red as the Revelation Eye activated, heightening my senses.

Aldir's cautionary words faded into oblivion as I swiftly conjured Faithkeeper, channeling spatium to launch a lightning-fast assault on the murderer of my mother. I intended to vanquish him in a single devastating blow. Desperation flashed across the Vritra's face as he desperately manifested soulfire, attempting to defend himself.

With precision, I gathered aether around my blade, poised to effortlessly slice through his feeble resistance.

Yet, before I could deliver the decisive strike, Jezebeth intervened, his presence warping the fabric of space as his fist collided with my sword, producing a resounding boom. The force sent me hurtling through the air, disoriented but determined.

"Now, now, let's not be so impetuous," Jezebeth chimed in, his voice dripping with condescension, as I struggled to rise from the ground.

"You dare—" I began, my voice seething with fury, but Aldir swiftly materialized before me, halting my words.

"He speaks the truth, Lord Alistair," Aldir asserted, his voice tinged with a blend of solemnity and wrath. "Engaging in combat serves no purpose here."

"My mother's killer stands within arm's reach, and you expect me to—" I protested, only to be silenced by Aldir's commanding King's Force, which sealed my mouth shut.

I gazed at him, taken aback by the intense fury etched on his countenance. "Please understand, Lord Alistair. Oh, how I yearn to exact vengeance upon both of them with my own hands for robbing Lady Saphira and Lady Sylvia of her life. However, we must exercise restraint for the greater good of this world."

My grip on reality tightened as I forced my sword to dissipate into thin air, frustration gnawing at my insides.

I was strong now, strong enough to exact revenge upon my mother's murderer, and yet, I felt pathetically weak.

Why was it so? How could I still be so powerless?

Before I could dwell further on these vexing thoughts, Aldir's voice cut through the haze, grounding me once again. "Jezebeth, if full-blooded Asuras are not permitted, why have you come?"

Jezebeth emitted a throaty chuckle, his amusement palpable. "Oh, I understand the agreement, my dear Aldir. I shall not partake in the initial stages of the war. However, this meeting presented a special exception. Did you think we were oblivious to the transgression you committed with that little dragon bond of yours?"

"Regardless, we are not here for conflict," he continued, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "We have come to engage in dialogue. Speak, Cadell."

Cadell, his gaze fixed solely on Aldir, began to relay the message entrusted to him by his Majesty. "His Majesty's decree is simple: Surrender the ruling family, and mercy shall be granted to those deemed deserving. Continue to resist, and our forces shall mercilessly eradicate every living soul on this land without distinction."

Virion erupted in protest. "You call those terms? It's nothing more than a one-sided ultimatum!"

Jezebeth sneered, his contempt dripping from his words. "Indeed, it is an ultimatum. But what does it matter? Do you believe you possess the authority to demand otherwise?"

"Yes, we do," Lancelot interjected, positioning himself directly in front of Jezebeth.

The two adversaries locked eyes, a charged silence hanging in the air.

"Ah, you're the insignificant nuisance who interrupted the skirmish between Gary and me," Jezebeth remarked, scratching his head in mock recollection. "So, you've come to get your sorry behind handed to you once more?"

Lancelot inhaled deeply, before turning away with resolve. "Meet me on the battlefield, and then we shall see who prevails, you insignificant snake."

"HAHAHA!" Jezebeth laughed before a serious expression overtook his face, "If you live long enough to, I will be more than happy to show you the difference between us once again."

Lancelot and I soared above the billowing clouds, the wind whipping around us, as the weighty conversation hung in the air.

"You're not seriously considering their offer, are you?" Lancelot's voice cut through the gusts.

Gramps expression grew somber, lines etching deeper on his forehead. "No, but we cannot ignore the potential to save countless innocent lives if they were to uphold their promise."

I couldn't help but scoff, my disbelief ringing in my voice. "A risky gamble, sacrificing your family's safety for a mere chance. I won't allow you to give up Tessia."

"Alistair has a point," Aldir interjected, his voice steady. "You're well aware of the consequences the world would face under Vritra's rule. Even Epheotus, with all its defenses, would not be safe from the havoc Agrona could wreak by breeding mixed races with his blood. And it wouldn't stop there—the rest of the asuras would eventually become targets as well, within a few generations."

Gramps let out a weary sigh, shoulders slumping. "I know. I dread the protests and backlash that will inevitably arise from this decision. It's not solely my choice but that of Gary's as well, and I believe he shares my sentiments."

"Are you planning to disclose this to everyone?" I asked, genuine surprise coloring my tone.

Gramps nodded solemnly. "Trust is a fragile serpent—hard-earned yet easily shattered. A leader must be trusted by their people, but how much trust will they place in me once they realize their lives are being used as bargaining chips?"

As we journeyed back toward the western shore, Virion busied himself with coordinating plans through a mental transmission artifact, preparing for the public address scheduled for the following day.